


The Littlest Star

by Lizardbeth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babies, Canon Temporary Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loki Has Issues, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night on Vanaheim has consequences to Sif, to Loki, to... everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [metalshell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalshell/gifts).



> To Metalshell: I started something for your Medical AU idea, but it refused to come together. It might still show up one of these days, but this idea is one that's been rolling around in my head for awhile, and I hope you enjoy it!

The hall of Hogun's family was raucous with music, laughter, and stories, as ale flowed easily. Hogun's family was happy to see him return to Vanaheim, and they knew how to throw a party. Volstagg, Thor, Hogun and Hogun's uncles got into a drinking match, and Fandral went off with Hogun's sister. Sif had danced with Hogun's relatives, surprised to see Loki with Hogun's aunt when she hadn't seen him for awhile and assumed he'd gone to bed someone. The dancing was enjoyable, but it left her the sober one in a crowd of drunks when she returned to the table. She was on her second horn, trying to decide whether she wanted to drain it and catch up with them, when Thor started to regale the party with heroic stories. Somehow he was the one who fought the giant, and he was the one who defeated the riders at Fornam, and he was the one who ran into the cave to save the rest of them from the dragon nest. When in fact, he had done none of those things -- Sif had defeated the giant, Loki had tricked the riders onto the wrong trail, and Loki and Sif had run into the nest because Thor had been too drunk to wield Mjolnir.

She would have objected to this rewriting of history, except she caught sight of Loki in the shadows beneath the overhanging upper level balcony. She was irritated at Thor, but Loki seemed furious. He was glaring at Thor, hands clenched, until he whirled around and vanished through the side door.

In a matching mood, she swallowed the dregs of her ale and went after him. His clothes usually made him hard to spot in the dark, but the lean silhouette in the moonlight in the courtyard was enough clue as he stalked across it, toward the stables.

He flung open the door hard enough the wood rattled in the frame and let it slam behind him. More quietly she followed, cracking the door just enough to slip inside. At first it was too dark to see, but her eyes grew accustomed to the blue of his small sphere of magelight as it hovered above his head and cast a moon-like glow over the aisle. Horses huffed and snorted, stirred by the door and their scents, but she could barely see Loki as he climbed up to the hayloft. He didn't seem to notice he'd been followed, climbing with a sharp, angry precision, muttering under his breath.

She was quick to follow him as the blue light floated up with him. In the hayloft, which was mostly empty except for a pile of hay and one sleeping cat, he paced back and forth, hands fisted at his sides.

She called softly, "Loki?"

He startled violently, so caught up in his anger he'd heard nothing outside of it. He stumbled a step, only quick reflexes keeping him on his feet. He turned, schooling the anger out of his face, with a smile on his lips that didn't at all touch his eyes.

"Sif? What are you doing here?" he asked. "You should be carousing with the others."

So should he, but that had nothing to do with why they'd both left. She climbed up all the way, pulling herself up and standing before she answered, "It irritated me, too."

His pretense of not being angry dropped away instantly, once he knew she shared his anger, and his eyes narrowed. "He did all of that. _on his own_. Does he not even remember how it really happened?"

Ordinarily she might have come to Thor's defense, and remind Loki that Thor was drunk, and everyone knew that Thor was a braggart when he was drunk, but she was far too annoyed herself. "Maybe he doesn't."

"Making himself not just the hero, but all of us look _useless_ ," Loki spat in fury. "And Father intends to make him king."

"There's nothing we can do about it."

He shot her a look. There was something about him that stole her breath. His eyes incandescent and striking in the light of his own magelight, as if they glowed from within, and his skin pale against the frame of his black hair. Thor filled the room, by size and temperament, bright and blinding as the lightning, and usually Loki was lost somewhere behind him, but in that moment, she saw Loki on his own, as he was. He was the beauty of the stars above the snow, cold and crisp, or the silvery moonlight on the sea. She could only look at him, struck to silence by this revelation.

His lip curled. "So we give up? We can't fight the inevitable? There must be something we can do." He gestured, and the motion of his fingers caught her eyes. Big hands, long fingers, so graceful… Not the blunt clumsy hands of a warrior, but the adept, clever fingers of a sorcerer and scholar. Abruptly, she wondered what those fingers would feel like on her skin.

She swallowed, and had to lick her lips as they went dry. This was new. She'd never thought of Loki this way. Suddenly all she could remember was seeing him fight, and sure it was easy to say that he fought from a distance, magic and tricks keeping him out of the thick of it. But that wasn't true, not really, because when he engaged, it was close-quarters, with not a motion wasted, daggers swift and sure. He fought as he danced, quick and graceful.

Anger and upset was lighting his eyes, and she was so tired of always defending Thor's casual selfishness. Was it not time to share Loki's anger, and admit that he was right?

"No, we don't ever give up," she said, and she pushed him into the wall.

Shocked, he didn't try to resist, blurting in confusion, "Sif? What are--"

"Be quiet," she ordered and leaned into him to put her mouth on his. He tried to say her name again, but this time not an objection, as his hand clasped her bare arm and slid up to her shoulder. That simple touch made her shiver, as her hands slid into his hair to hold his head to hers.

He got over his surprise at what she was doing, kissing back with an intensity that rattled her. His lips melded against hers perfectly, and his hand was on her thigh, beneath her tunic, pulling her against him. But their armor prevented her from getting close enough to his body, except for nudging her leg between his. She was on her toes and pressing herself against his thigh before she realized what she was doing.

She started poking at his armor, trying to find the fasteners, but he laughed lowly, pulling his mouth off hers. "There's an easier way," he murmured. "If you want."

His smile was mischievous, and she knew it was a trick, but she nodded and pulled her hand back. "All right. Do it."

She felt a warmth chase across her skin, stirring the fine hair, and then Loki snapped his fingers and her clothes were gone. She was standing utterly nude, and though first he grinned, appreciating his own joke, the grin slipped away as he stared at her as if he couldn't believe his own eyes were seeing this. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and there was something pure about his admiration, not a tawdry lust.

She'd always been accepting of her body, but it was the first time someone else's reaction to it made something in her heart feel warm. Because it wasn't a jest or a lie, she could feel the truth of it, how much he meant it. She smiled at him. "Your turn."

The rat had removed only her clothes, leaving himself in his fighting leathers. She thought it was just a joke, until he dropped his eyes.

"I-- I don't think--" he said reluctantly and turned his head.

She frowned curiously. "What? Loki?"

"No, you don't want-- we're both angry at Thor and this isn't a good time, for something we've never done before, or--" the words fell from him, anxiously tripping over themselves, as he threw a bunch of excuses between them.

She caught his hand before he'd gone more than a step toward the ladder. "Loki. You can't tell me you don't want me, I don't believe you."

His eyes slid back to hers and though he didn't say anything, there was nothing but want in his eyes. She had the unsettling idea that perhaps it wasn't that he didn't want her, but he didn't believe she wanted _him_.

She tugged him back to her and gripped his lapels of his coat with both hands and pushed it off his shoulders and off. "No, we've never done this before. But we should have." Feathering her lips across his, she whispered, "Take them off."

He hesitated then closing his eyes, he stood before her bare. He stood still, eyes still shut so he wouldn't see her reaction, while she let her eyes have their fill. It was a common jest that it would take two of Loki to make up one Thor, and it was true that he was thin, without either Thor's heavier bones or his muscles, but as she saw for herself as he stood gleaming in the light that he was still muscled.

As her eyes managed to pull themselves from that hollow beneath his hip bones, her eyebrows went up and she couldn't help a little laugh. "Well, if you're thinking that you compare unfavorably to Thor, I can tell you that you certainly don't, not where it counts."

His eyes popped open, frowning at her as if he thought she was mocking him. She certainly wasn't, though, because there was nothing to mock him for. She flicked her eyes deliberately down again to make her point. His brows flared, taking her meaning, and his lips curled up in a smirk. She took his hand and brought it to lay on her breast. She shuddered under the touch, feeling her nipples tighten. "Let's have some fun."

This time when their mouths came together, there was nothing between them, only heated skin against skin. He was sleek and taut under her hands, and his hair unexpectedly soft to the touch when she shoved her fingers in it to hold his mouth on her, as his lips and tongue made trails down her neck and the swell of her breast. His hand swept down her flank and hip, and down her outer thigh as far as he could reach,  then up the inside of her thigh with slow, teasing care. He lingered, fingers rubbing distracting patterns into her inner thigh and nowhere near where she wanted them.

"Loki," she complained, and he chuckled into her chest, low and amused.

"Have to make it last, to remember every inch of you," he murmured, and lifted his head to look her in the eye. "To watch your face as I do this." His touch was exactly as adept as she suspected it would be, teasing her flesh until she had to bite her lip on needy pleas for him to finish her. Her head smacked the wall as his fingers found her center, and she came apart, one hand clutching his shoulder and the other making claw marks into the wood at her back. 

She gasped and shuddered, clamping her legs tight on his hand so he couldn't move it away. Still recovering her breath, she was loose-limbed and leaning against the wall, when his hands gripped her hips and lifted her. Her eyes flared with surprise, not expecting the more aggressive move, but she tucked a leg around him and helped steady them as he pushed up inside her hard enough to leave them both gasping. 

"Oh, ancestors," she groaned, seizing his shoulders, and bit her lip when his mouth sucked hard kisses into her collarbone. His hands were almost painful in their grip, but that didn't matter either, as he shoved them both into the wall with every snap of his hips. It started as a small rill of pleasure, shooting out from where they came together, but wound tighter and tighter, until she was breathless and still urging him on.

He was starting to lose his grip as their skin grew slick with sweat, but it only made him go faster and harder, which was exactly what she needed.  Seizing inside, she let out a cry, nearly jerking free of his grip with her uncontrolled reaction to the explosions in her nerves. He wasn't long to follow, pressing inside her and against her body, every muscle locking up so he could come hard inside her, which he caught his panting breaths behind his teeth. 

Gradually, he loosened against her. "Oh Sif," he whispered, into her neck, as if that was all he could find the strength to say. Peeling his fingers from her skin, he let her back down. But when he straightened as if to move away, she slung an arm around his back to keep him there. 

"Don't," she murmured. "Stay here with me, don't run off like a thief in the night." 

"Wasn't going to," he let out a breathless laugh, "But I need to sit down." once he mentioned it, she could feel the quiver in his legs and felt quite smug that she'd done that. She let him sit down, on her cape, and she climbed onto his lap, not nearly finished with her explorations of his mouth or his body. Though he surprised her both with the ease of his mouth on her body, and how quickly he was willing to go again. This time with her the one banging him into the wood, while he looked up at her with wonder a counter-point to his desire, as if this was all more than he'd ever dreamed. 

They ended up on the floor, wrapped in her cape, and they were both a sticky mess, but she didn't care. Pleasantly worn out, she stretched, tucked against Loki's body and yawned into his shoulder. His fingers idly caressed her hair with a soothing repetitive motion at the side of her face.

"Sif?" he whispered. She answered with a soft wordless mutter, too tired to form an actual word. "Never mind," he said.  "Go to sleep." She felt the whisper against her skin of his magic, coaxing her down into sleep. 

But she wasn't quite asleep when she heard him murmur, "I wish we could stay here forever."  In his voice and touch, still so gentle against her face, she sensed something vast and deep, something she'd only ever glimpsed like a flash rising to the surface and quickly suppressed. But she felt it in its entirety, that he loved her. that maybe he'd always loved her, and for that moment, he was letting himself feel it. 

She was too tired, her tongue too leaden, to speak, and sleep pulled her under before she considered how to respond.

 

When she awoke, she was alone, with only the ache in her loins to tell her it had happened at all. It was a bit of a relief that he smiled at her later as if nothing had happened between them, and she could pretend she hadn't heard anything or felt anything. Nothing had changed for him apparently, and that gave her some time to pretend that was true for her, too. 

 

* * *

next...

 


	2. The Death

There was no body to place in a ship and send over the falls to the ancestors. There was nothing.

There was only Thor's blue eyes, devastated and confused, and all he could say was, "He fell."

Loki had fallen off the Bifrost, off the edge of the world, into the abyss beyond. He was gone. And Sif still understood none of it- not Jotunheim, Thor's banishment, the Odinsleep, Loki taking the throne, the Destroyer, Frost Giants in Asgard… none of it.

The only part she understood was that all of it was for nothing. She would never understand what had happened, because Loki was dead.

She stood on the balcony, wrapped in her own pain and guilt, worse than any shroud. Because she might have averted it all.

Soft footsteps behind her were the queen's and Sif bit her lip, to keep her anguish to herself. Frigga had her own grief, far greater than anything Sif could claim.

Sif glanced at her; Frigga always looked wise and beautiful, and this was no exception. Only her eyes showed her grief, otherwise she held to her calm here among the dregs of the memorial feast. She read Sif's own turmoil and put a gentle hand on Sif's shoulder.

The comforting gesture from someone who surely needed it more, broke something in Sif, and her eyes suddenly pricked with wet heat and she could only draw a single ragged breath. "I didn't tell him," she confessed her guilt. "I could've changed everything… If I'd just told him…"

Frigga drew nearer and asked with a curious frown. "Told him what, Sif?"

Sif's hand dropped to lay over her lower abdomen. Frigga's eyes followed the gesture and then widened with sudden understanding as Sif whispered, "Only days ago, I found out I'm with child. His child."

"Sif--"

But now that she'd started to speak, Sif couldn't stop. "I didn't know what to tell him, it was only one night, I never thought anything would come of it. I didn't know what I was going to do. I was trying to figure it out, and then… I don't know what happened. I don't understand. How did everything go so wrong?" Her voice shook on the words and she blinked furiously, trying not to cry, as she huddled against the balustrade.

Frigga's hand smoothed the hair at the side of her face gently. She didn't speak for a moment, letting Sif gather herself back together. "There is something you should know, that might help you understand. And you must not blame yourself, my dear. The fault for all these days… for this loss… is mine alone."

"Yours?" Sif repeated blankly. That seemed impossible.

"On Jotunheim, during your battle there," Frigga murmured. "Loki discovered a truth that we had hidden from him, that he was not our son by blood, but instead a child of Jotunheim, transformed long ago into an Aesir appearance."

Sif knew she was staring, but this… this was too much. A Frost Giant?

"The infant had been cast aside, too small and weak for their kind," Frigga murmured. "And Odin brought him here. We thought -- we believed -- that shift was permanent, and he would never have to know his true ancestry. It seemed kinder." Her single laugh broke on a sob, and she had to pause to steady herself. "But that proved an ill decision when discovering the truth in such a way…" she shook her head and her fingers rubbed each other, "it… unsettled him. Made him doubt himself, and us. Everything. He was angry and hurt, and I helped him too little when he needed me…" She closed her eyes, brows knitting together in pain and her voice fell to something barely pushed from her throat, "Thor could have pulled him up, but Loki… let go. He chose to let go. To leave us."

Sif's heart felt too heavy, too large in her chest, and she couldn't breathe under this weight. Everything was worse. The truth was worse. The truth had broken Loki and now it was going to break her, too.

He hadn't fallen by accident. He'd killed himself. Hopeless and despairing and alone, he'd let go, choosing a slow and terrible death in the void between Realms, rather than stay.

"I should have told him. He didn't know." Her lower lip trembled even after she bit it, trying to make it stop. "He didn't know that he had something to live for."

Frigga's hand closed on her shoulder and tugged. Sif turned gratefully into her embrace and together, their tears flowed of loss and regret.

Sif sniffed and drew a deeper breath. "I'm going to keep the baby," she said. It was not until the words came out that she knew she had decided, but once spoken, she felt they were right. Their relationship had lasted one night, but it had also lasted most of their lives, and it had held the potential of more if she had opened her eyes earlier. He had left her, but he hadn't left her alone, and she could never destroy his final gift to her. It felt like his greatest trick, to give her this that would change her life so profoundly and then leave them all behind.

"We know now the shift was not complete. Your child will be half-Jotunn by blood," Frigga reminded her, voice kept neutral, but it still struck Sif's ears wrongly as a warning and a suggestion that perhaps, Sif should reconsider her decision.

She squared her shoulders and returned, "The child will be half Loki's. And that is not a bad thing to be."

But Frigga's caution seemed to be only a test, as she smiled. "No, it is not," Frigga agreed. "And I am glad something of him will survive, Sif. Thank you."

Sif managed a short nod and walked away to find someplace she could think and mourn, alone.


	3. The Child

Sif was so ready. So incredibly ready for this baby to get on its way, out of her.

Yet she was also a little afraid, because he was early, and Eir and the queen had shared a look that Sif wasn't supposed to see, even as they both encouraged her that everything was fine.

"Is he all right?" Sif asked anxiously.

Frigga glanced at the monitors which were tracking both Sif and the baby's health, and she smiled at Sif, stroking back her hair. "He's doing well, Sif. So are you. Let your body do what it knows to do. Relax, breathe, and now… push."

She bore down, gritting her teeth and pushing and barely had a chance to pull in a breath, before she had to do it again.

"Very good, I see the head, you are almost there, my lady," Eir said.

"Almost he's here, keep going, my darling," Frigga coaxed her. "Push again."

The pain was like nothing she'd ever felt, ripping up her spine and down her legs, but she pushed anyway, yelling out through her clenched teeth like this was a battle.

"I have him!" Eir reported. "The head is through. One more--"

Sif didn't even hear her finish, putting all her strength into one last muscle push.

"Here he is! Oh, he's lovely," Eir said.

Sif flopped her head back against the pillow, panting for breath. Frigga's free hand mopped her face with a cloth, wiping off the sweat, and she smiled. "You did it, Sif."

"Can I-- Can I see him?" she asked, still trying to catch her breath. "Why is he so quiet? Shouldn't he be crying?"

And on cue, a soft cry emerged as Eir stood up, cradling something small. "Of course you can see him."

Eir gently set him on Sif's chest, and guided her hands around him. He seemed fragile, that was Sif's first rather panicked thought; she could break him so easily. His little stick legs and his tiny head could fit in her hand.

He was… blue. Not the same blue as a Frost Giant, paler grey-blue like a cloudy sky, but definitely not pink or peach. His hair was wispy but clearly black, and then his eyes opened, and they were red. The irises were ruby, as he blinked slowly, brow furrowed at this strange cold place. She looked into those red eyes and her heart filled with a sudden wave of desperate love and adoration. It didn't matter that he was still covered by the birth fluids, or his face was sort of squashed, or his skin and eyes were different. He was her son. And in that moment… she knew everything had changed forever.

She smiled down at him, and kissed his forehead. "Hello, little one," she whispered. "Hello, Ullr Lokisson."

"Thank you, daughter," Frigga told her and kissed her brow. "Rest now."

She rested, with Ullr, as the others cleaned up. Eir took him briefly to clean him up as well and examine him, and then brought him back to help her to try to nurse him, though she was afraid he got very little. "It is well, lady Sif. He has enough. He is early but strong, and it will take a little time for him and you to learn what to do. You will see."

"Thank you, Eir," Sif said. "I am grateful."

Eir smiled. "You did all the work my lady. I merely caught him. Rest now." She took her leave, and Frigga then was the only one in the room with Sif and Ullr.

The baby was asleep, exhausted from the birth, but Sif wasn't quite ready to join him. She was tired, but it was a good tired. She'd waited all this time for him and she wanted to keep watching him sleep.

"Eir will be discreet, of course," Frigga murmured. "Nor has she ever cared about such things, regardless. But for the others …" She held a hand over Ullr, and under Sif's astonished eyes, his skin color shifted, the blue tone seeming to drain from it, leaving Aesir pale peach behind.

"What-- what did you do?" Sif demanded, looking from Ullr to Frigga.

"It's only illusion," Frigga answered. "He is too young for a permanent shift, but it can be done. He is only half so it is even easier to--"

"Pretend?" Sif interrupted sharply. "Lie to him?" As she spoke, the knot of anger that had lodged within her chest at Loki's death flared and grew to a cold rage. "Take it off him! You want me to make my son live a lie, as you made yours?"

Frigga flinched, and her lips parted in shock that Sif would say such things to her. 

Sif was too exhausted to move, and far too exhausted to curb her tongue. "Loki flung himself off the Bifrost! He's dead. What more do you need to understand that keeping it a secret was wrong! And you want to make my son go through all that as well, pretending he's something other than what he is?"

"Asgard is not welcoming to those of that blood--"

"Then maybe you should have tried to do something about that!" Sif retorted furiously. "Instead of letting everyone continue to believe that the Frost Giants are primitive monsters, you should have tried to teach us all that they're _people_. Then maybe your son would still be alive!"

Frigga's face went white and she opened her mouth, but no words came out. Sif felt terrible at the cruel words she'd hurled at the queen, blaming her for Loki's death. "I'm sorry," she said hastily. "That was… low. I shouldn't have said that." She looked down at Ullr, too ashamed to meet Frigga's eyes.

"No," Frigga admitted hoarsely. "You're right." She hovered a hand above Ullr and pulled back the illusion she had cast, restoring his proper skin. "We should have done more to ease the tension and prejudice against the Jotunn, but it's still there, Sif. Ullr will find it difficult to appear like this."

"If Asgard is unfriendly, then we will go somewhere else," Sif said. She lifted him in her arms, his tiny weight scarcely more than feathers against her palms, and she kissed his head. She realized she meant every word. For all these years, her first and only love had been Asgard, but now? To make sure her son was happy, she would leave this place and find another.

"I will not raise my son in a place where he hates what he is or where others hate him," Sif vowed softly. "I faced down those who said I could not be a warrior, and I will face down those who call my child a monster. Because he's not a monster. And he deserves better than a choice between a life of lies and secrets, or a life of hate."

Sif knew when Frigga left that she might have fractured her relationship to the queen forever, but she would not take back the words. Ullr did deserve better, and Sif would give it to him.


	4. The Surprise

Sif stretched on the mat, pushing her torso up to lengthen her spine and reduce that tendency to slump when she nursed Ullr, and held the position, head back.

When she lowered herself again, she had a surprise - Ullr, who had been on his own mat on his stomach, too, was now lying on his back, kicking his feet and smiling as if he'd won a prize. He'd turned over on his own.

She stared at him and shook her head. "You… aren't supposed to do that yet. They told me six months. Not three. Overachiever." Her chiding voice was proud though and she smiled down at him. He grinned back at her and made a soft cooing sound that made her smile widen, since she was pretty sure it meant "mama" even if he was nowhere near words. She chuckled. "I should have known. Neither your father nor I ever did what we were supposed to do as children, I don't know why I expected you would. You are going to be a terror when you start crawling, aren't you?"

She booped him with a finger on his button nose, and he grabbed for her finger with his tiny hands. She let him grab it and try to stuff it in his mouth. "My hand is the size of your head, silly, that's not going to work."

She offered him the ring to suck on instead and while he was busy gumming it vigorously, she returned to her stretches, one leg out to one side, other knee bent.

Quick footsteps interrupted. "Sif!" She turned to see Frigga rushing in.

Despite Sif's fear that the queen would remain angry, she had proven herself stronger than that. Instead of trying to ignore Sif or otherwise punish her, she seemed to have taken Sif's words to heart. She'd stood with Sif, steady in her explanations for why she and the king had saved Loki from Jotunheim, adopted him as their own, and then hid the truth from their people. It had likely been difficult for her to admit the truth, but she had shown none of it, steadfast in her determination to do for Ullr what she had not done for Loki. She had also publicly addressed him as her grandson, acknowledging the relationship even if none existed by blood. Thor had done the same, enthusiastic about his nephew, but in truth the king's naming of him as Prince Ullr Lokisson had done the most to force an acceptance.

Sif was gratified by it and glad for Ullr's sake, though she was inwardly saddened that they had not done the same for Loki long ago. But at least his loss had taught them all a lesson about truth and acceptance, so it was not in vain.

The queen looked pale and shocked, yet her eyes gleamed in a way that Sif hadn't seen since Loki's death. Sif relinquished the pose, intending to push herself to her feet, but Frigga instead went to both knees in front of Sif and Ullr. She smiled at the baby and at Sif, and dropped her news like an incendiary weapon: "He's alive. Sif, Loki's alive!"

Sif reflexively put a hand on Ullr's tummy, to protect him, as the world seemed to drop out beneath her feet. In a very small voice she asked, "What?" She must have misheard.

Frigga explained more calmly, "I've been scrying for him. Each day, I try to reach him."

Sif heard the words, but they still made no sense. "But- but he's dead. Why would you do that?"

"Because enough of me hoped he was not," Frigga murmured. She glanced at Ullr, and smiled sadly. "You're a mother now, surely you can understand. I am not his mother by blood, no, but I have shared so much with Loki, our magics are quite bound together. I thought, surely I should have felt his death. Yet I never did. I told myself it was a foolish hope, and the king told me I felt nothing because Loki had died between Realms where nothing could reach. But I doubted enough to search. If anyone could do the impossible and escape, Loki could. So I looked for him. Every day I searched, and for so long there was nothing, as if he was truly gone. I was... losing hope," she admitted, "I almost did not search today, unable to bear the thought of finding nothing again. But I sat beneath the tree and I looked into the emerald he gave me in his youth, and," her eyes met Sif's, blue eyes shining with new joy. "I found him. I touched his mind. He lives."

Was it true? Could it be true? Frigga seemed to believe it. "Are you sure?" Sif asked, unable to keep the uncertainty from her voice. "You sure it was him? Not... your hopes, giving you something you want?" Because she knew about that. How many times in the last year had she thought she'd heard his voice or felt his presence, only to realize it was her own memories tricking her. She had kept reminding herself that he was dead and she had to let go, but that had never helped - a chill breeze on her arms felt like his magic, the flutter of a green cape in a crowd made her think he was there... but it was never true.

Frigga patted her back. "I am sure, Sif. He escaped the void."

_Loki was alive._

Sif slipped her hands beneath Ullr to lift him against her chest. His small but familiar weight, the feel of his back beneath her hand, comforted her as she tried to digest that this was true. "Where is he? Why isn't he here? Is he all right?"

"I don't know where he is. But he was well enough to respond, and well enough to shut me out." Her expression faltered then, with sorrow that Loki would push her away, but lifted her eyes again, straightening with resolve. "But… he's alive. Somewhere quite far away, that much I could sense. Now that I know he is out there, we can search for him with other methods."

"I…" Sif felt unbalanced and light-headed by this news. For the past three months since Ullr's birth, she had thought she knew the basic course of her life, only now all was thrown topsy-turvy again. "Why would he not come home?" Sif asked.

Frigga dropped her eyes. "I presume because he no longer believes Asgard  _is_  home. But we will change his mind, Sif, and bring him back to us. Once he knows about Ullr, he will know nothing is impossible." She patted Sif's shoulder, kissed Ullr's head, and rose back to her feet. "I must tell the others. But I wanted you to know first."

Sif held Ullr snugly, and whispered to him after Frigga had gone, "He's alive, little one. Your father's alive, after all." She let out a little laugh. "I should have known. He's much too clever to do something and have no way out. He'll return to us and he'll be very sorry he missed your birth."

Pressing her lips to the soft black hair, she closed her eyes, trying to push away the kernel of doubt that warned her it was not going to be that easy.


	5. The Return

Sif practiced at staves while Ullr was happily burbling to himself in his portable cradle perched next to the practice yard. She held one in each hand, thwacking the dummy tree's arms in the sequence.

At the end she stepped back, reasonably satisfied that she was getting her form back. Someone applauded and she turned to see Thor approaching her.

"Well done," he called. "Truly the most terrifying mother in all the Nine Realms."

She grinned and saluted with the pair of staves, and Thor went to look in on his nephew. At first she had worried, only a little, that with Thor's strength and his usual heedlessness he might hurt Ullr by accident, but he was always gentle, whether tickling Ullr's chin and making him laugh or holding him. He picked Ullr up, his great big hands making the baby look even smaller, and held him upright. Ullr looked back at him, squinting suspiciously as if he doubted Thor's intentions included milk. "And how is little Ullr today?" he asked.

"He is well. Hungry."

"He eats well and grows strong." He tucked Ullr against his chest, where the baby could grab at the edge of his cape, and gently smoothed his soft hair with his fingertips. He turned to Sif, his expression falling.

She put off the discussion for a moment by putting the staves away before going to him, knowing this was about Loki. Only a few weeks had passed since Frigga's sensing him, and Sif knew that both the queen and Heimdall had tried to locate Loki since, but with no success. "You found him."

Thor nodded once, blue eyes somber. "He let himself be seen. He has gone to Midgard."

Sif frowned. "Midgard? Why?"

Thor could barely speak the answer. "It seems he has taken the tesseract as part of a greater plan. He put mortals under geas, including our friend Erik Selvig, and killed others." He shook his head once, sorrowfully. "I do not understand why he should attack them."

"Because they're under our protection, Thor," she answered. Loki cared nothing for Midgard, so attacking it had everything to do with Asgard. Ullr muttered and kicked at Thor's arm that his red cape had lost his interest. She gave him the ring to suck on while she and Thor finished.

He nodded agreement and then said, "Father has ordered me to stop him and bring him home."

She understood that the king wanted this ended swiftly, but it seemed to her the wrong decision. "No," she said. "Not you. He won't listen to you."

"I will make him listen. I knew nothing of what he had discovered, but I do now, and I will reassure him it changes nothing."

That was what she thought the true problem might be. She remembered Loki's bitter anger at Thor's behavior on Vanaheim, which was something she could see now in hindsight was not the first time. Thor telling him that everything could go back to _that_ was not going to help. She bit her lip and said, as gently as she could, "Thor, he let himself fall to his death rather than listen to you before." Thor reacted as if she'd hit him in the chest, losing his breath and shutting his eyes, pained. "I don't mean to be unkind, my friend, but whatever is happening with him, whatever madness has seized him, you will only make it worse. No," she inhaled a deep breath and decided. "I will go. If word of Ullr will not shift his mind, nothing will. And I want to tell him about his son, myself."

Thor nodded acquiescence to her plan and glanced down at Ullr. "He does change everything. Perhaps hearing that others learning of his outlander blood has not roused the hate he feared will remind him that we are not a cruel people. Thoughtless sometimes," he said, more to himself in regret, "but not cruel."

There had been thoughtlessness in people's reaction to Ullr - people who asked if he was sick, a few people who refused to touch him or said behind her back that he was ugly. Worse were those who admired her for her _bravery_ in having a part Jotunn baby. Sif was always careful to remind those people stiffly that Ullr's father was Loki and he was dead, not wanting to deal with any rumor that she'd been attacked by some random Frost Giant. It wasn't brave for her to have a son who was perfect in every way.

But generally, Thor was right; there was no cruelty. There might be more later, when Ullr was not with her and because children could be terrible, but she hoped by then everyone would be used to him. Or if not, she would leave, because she had meant it that Ullr's well-being was more important than her loyalty to this place.

She took Ullr back and held him against her chest. He spat out the ring and nuzzled into her neck. He found the edge of her collar to suck on, making pouty complaining noises when it didn't provide milk. "I'll feed him and then leave for Midgard."

Thor picked up the ring for her and handed it back. "I will tell Father of your intention to go to Midgard instead and if he approves it, I will escort you to the Bifrost."

In her chambers, she sat on the swing on the balcony and unlaced the front of her tunic for Ullr. She relaxed and watched the birds flit and dive between the towers, trying not to think of what she would find on Midgard, yet her mind kept circling back. What was Loki doing? Was he well? What would he think of Ullr?

When Ullr was finished, she put him down in his sleeping cradle and, for the first time since his birth, she put on her armor. It all still fit, though she noticed the bodice was more snug than it had been. She touched her sword, uncertain. Would Loki take it as a threat? But it _was_ a threat, really, was it not? She would have to stop him if he didn't listen to her. If he was mad or in a rage or bespelled or otherwise incapable of stopping himself, she would have to stop him. She was not Thor, able to put Mjolnir on him to keep him still -- she would have to hurt him to force him to stop what he was doing.

But if she came to him armed, he would take it as her coming to retrieve him under orders from Odin. Loki would resist that, because he resisted orders from the king on a good day, and today she would be lucky if he would listen at all.

She glanced at Ullr, who was watching her curiously, probably attracted by the shiny metal of her armor. Those scarlet eyes were already so curious about everything around him, so bright compared to the relative paleness of his blue-grey skin and the black fuzz on his head.

"I will bring him back," she promised Ullr and in one motion, thrust her blade into its sheath. "Let him fight me if he wills. If I have to stab him and haul him back by the neck, I will bring him back for you, I swear."

Footsteps between the columns in the foyer of her suite were a soft warning, as Frigga approached. "The All-Father was reluctant to send you, instead of Thor," the queen said. She eyed the sword but did not argue its presence. "But I persuaded him that you had the right to tell Loki of Ullr. If he does not heed you, Thor will follow. I will stay with Ullr until you return."

Sif was glad that the king had spared her the difficult decision of whether to do this without permission. "Thank you, All-Mother. I will do justice to your faith in me."

"Just… keep faith in him," Frigga warned and the look in her blue eyes was troubled. "There is much going unseen, and I doubt the truth is anything at the surface. He may need us far more than he will acknowledge."

That was discouraging, but not entirely unexpected. Loki was not the most forthcoming or truthful even before he had fallen into nothingness and disappeared. She nodded her understanding and kissed Ullr in promise to return.

Thor escorted her to the Observatory as promised. "How does he, Watcher?"

Heimdall peered into the nothingness, watching. "He waits. He does not attempt to conceal himself." 

Sif stepped into position and gave him a nod. "I am ready. Send me."

"Good fortune, Sif," Thor wished her, words simple, but the look in his eyes akin to desperation that she make all this right and bring Loki back to them. She gave him a quick smile, hoping that she could.

The energies began to build and spin, growing brighter and brighter, before seizing her and sending her back to Midgard.


	6. The Confrontation

The Bifrost set her down in a city on Midgard this time, rather than the wide desert of Jane Foster.

Sif reached for her hilt as she turned, looking for threats and for Loki. She saw neither. She'd arrived in the darkness of the city center, grand buildings on the four sides of the paved square. Only a few people were about to see her arrive - some scrambling away, some staring in confusion. Sif ignored them, knowing Loki had to be close or Heimdall would not have set her here.

The building with the hanging banners at the top of the few steps was lit up brightly, music drifting from open doors. Since it was the only sign of people she started up the steps.

She'd climbed only a few when the music changed for screaming, and frightened people were suddenly pouring out of the front doors.

_Ah, Loki, what are you doing?_

She ran up the steps, shoving the wrong way through the panicked herd and to the main doors. She grabbed the two security guards with their projectile weapons and shoved them outside. "You can't help. Stay out of the way." They seemed to want to protest, but they heeded her authority, and she rushed inside as the last of the crowd cleared out of the grand hall.

She saw Loki right away and her step hesitated. She hadn't quite believed he was still alive, and yet there he was. He wasn't unchanged, though. Loki usually was conscious of his hair, since he'd always despised how it curled, but his hair looked strangely unkempt and lank as if he hadn't paid it any mind in a while. He was wearing some kind of Midgardian suit, though he had finished it with a green accented cravat and a long black coat as if he was unable to resist looking like himself even in other clothes. He was holding a mortal across a marble table, some unknown weapon at the man's head.

"Loki, what are you doing?" she called. "Stop this."

His head snapped up, first shocked to see her, then a grin spread across his face, malicious in its mockery. "Sif! So lovely to see you!"

"Let him go!" she ordered, and pulled her blade from its scabbard.

"In a moment," he answered, gaze flicking down to the terrified mortal he was keeping still with a casual ease. "There, all done." He grabbed the mortal's shirt in one fist and flung the mortal to the floor, and he lay in a heap. Loki tossed the device after him, straightening. In his other hand he held a short staff with a glowing tip - it looked like nothing Midgardian as it transformed into a thicker curved golden haft with a claw-like blade encasing a glowing stone.

"What's that?" she asked nodding to the staff.

He lifted it. "My scepter of rule." He didn't look at it, though, keeping his attention on her warily.

"Rule of what?"

"Midgard." He answered as if the answer was obvious. "You've come at the start of my reign. Lucky you to be here on this day I begin to bring order to this rabble."

"You can't possibly mean that! Rule Midgard? Why would you want to?"

His hand tightened on the staff and his eyes narrowed at her. "Because I will be king," he hissed at her in sudden sharp fury. "And no traitors will keep it from me, this time."

She rocked back, as if his words had physical force, and he stalked toward the main doors without another glance at her.

Racing after him, she was only a handful of paces behind him, when he whirled back around and pointed the scepter at her. It glowed brightly but not as brightly as the gleam in his eyes. "Stay out of my way, Sif! You can tell All-Father Odin I'm done with him. I have my own path!"

The staff fired a bolt of energy that tore up the paving at her feet, but she threw herself through the explosion and found herself untouched. Her sword blade slammed up against Loki's staff.

For a moment, they were frozen still, taut with the force pressing against each other's weapon, a few steps away from each other. She stared into his eyes, wondering where Loki was - this stranger looking out from his eyes was someone else.

Abruptly he disengaged and ducked beneath the arc of her blade, as she staggered briefly in the absence of something to push against. She attacked again, the staff catching the blade again. She could have reversed and hit his open side, but she let her blade hold against the staff. He didn't continue the attack either. "Loki, what are you doing?" she demanded, looking into his eyes. For a moment, the blue depths held a desperation in them, meeting hers, as if he was looking for something in his turn. But he didn't find it, the openness fading in an instant.

"Taking what should have been mine by right," he spat at her.

"There is no right in this!" she told him. "Look around, Loki. This isn't right! None of this is right!"

He sneered at her in disdain. "Still Odin's lapdog. He does no wrong, and I do no right, isn't that your way? Isn't that what's meant to be?" He slammed her blade aside with a sudden move, and moved back out of her reach. "Don't interfere in my plan," he warned and turned for the doors.

"Where's the tesseract?"

He stopped still and turned back around, grin now a rictus on his lips and his gaze cold. "The tesseract? Ah, so that's why. For a moment I thought--" He laughed bitterly. "If I'd known I could get the old man's notice with it, I should have taken it centuries ago. But I don't have it," he told her. "You wasted your time."

She was losing; she could feel it. There had been a moment she had seen Loki truly, but it was fading away. He thought Odin had sent her to retrieve the tesseract.

"That's not why I came!" she exclaimed frantically.

He stopped where he was, facing away from her, and for an instant, she considered throwing her sword in his back instead of revealing this to him, with this strange and vicious mood he was in. "Do tell." He turned slowly, lip curling in scorn as if he expected some ridiculous story. "If not the tesseract, why?"

Faced with his coldness, she swallowed hard and lowered her blade. "You… have a son."

He blinked and his mouth came open in sheer surprise that she would say such a thing, then he laughed. "Me? I've read the mortal tales, Sif. None of them are real."

She held his eyes. "It's true. You and I have a son."

Though she should have known he wouldn't believe her, it still hurt when he froze, eyes flickering with racing thoughts, and then he hissed, "Liar."

"I'm not lying!" she protested. "It's the truth. Please, Loki, listen. He's from that night in Vanaheim."

He chuckled in scorn. "Oh, it was? That night in Vanaheim was some months before the farce of a coronation. You would have known, but you said _nothing_."

"I didn't tell you, because I didn't know how. I didn't know what I was going to do. I'd only known for a few days, and then -- everything fell apart and you died.”

He was not persuaded by her explanations in the least. "Do you expect me to believe," he stalked toward her, face white with cold rage, "that you not only lied to my face and betrayed me, the rightful king, but you did so carrying my child?"

"Because it was all wrong! Because I knew you'd set it up. There was no one but you who could have brought the giants in, it was all your scheme! You were the betrayer, planning to seize the throne!"

His eyes, pale as stars, glared into hers. "My only plan was to show the All-Father what a reckless hotheaded idiot Thor is, and the only _result_ I expected, was for him to slap Thor on the wrist and rescind the coronation. How could I expect more than that, when Odin had never punished him for _anything_? My dream was for Odin to realize I'd be a better king, but that was always a trick he played on me. Poor foolish boy who thought he was a prince, and found out he was nothing," he sneered, mocking himself. "Worse than nothing. Alone and forgotten until he dares to take something for himself. And now you come with this pathetic appeal trying to take it from me again!" He swung his staff wildly but settled again into bitter anger, walking away. "Well, I don't care. Take your phantom child and leave me alone. If it even exists, it's Thor's anyway," he shot at her over his shoulder.

She said steadily. "He looks like you, Loki."

"Oh really? Like me?" Loki asked silky purr, stalking back toward her. "Black hair, pale skin, blue eyes?"

She understood then why he was so convinced she was lying; because he didn't know that she knew about the secret. "Yes, like you," she answered and lifted her head. "Black hair, skin the color of a winter lake, and scarlet eyes."

Loki went ashen and the staff nearly dropped from his hand. "What? I don't believe you," he whispered, but it was plainly hollow denial. "No, you would never -- they would _never_ \--" he said harshly and turned away, shoulders stiff and hand tight on the scepter. "They told you. No. You would never keep such a monster."

"His name is Ullr, and I will fight anyone who calls him a monster," she declared.

Loki shook his head in disbelief, retreating away from her and the doors, heading backward across the tile. "No, no, this is a trick, a lie. You and Odin and Thor, you made this up to hurt me. There's no baby, there's no son, it's impossible! All you want is the tesseract. And to take this Realm away from me, because Thor gets everything, and I get _nothing_!" He shot another blast out of the stone of the scepter, but it went wild, tearing up the stones to her left. It wasn't near enough to make her flinch back, but she was unsure whether he had missed her deliberately or not.

"No!" she exclaimed and tightened her hand on her hilt, forcing herself to be calm. He was already overwrought, if she was also, this was going to end poorly. "Would you listen? We want you to come home, Loki. Whatever this is--" she gestured to the man on the floor and the gathering crowd outside, "is doomed. You know it. You're angry and upset, and I understand that, but this isn't the answer. Come with me and see Ullr. He's real, Loki, I can prove it. He really is your son. You'll see - he's not a monster." She added quietly, holding out her hand to him, "And neither are you. Not if you come with me and stop whatever this scheme is. Come home and be a family with us."

His gaze dropped to her hand, and for a moment, she feared he would reject her offer. Then he looked her in the eyes and warned quietly, "If you mean to entrap me--"

She felt tight and anxious suddenly, though she knew all she was saying was true. If this went badly, Loki would never trust her again.

She shook her head once. "I don't. I give you my word. All I want is for you to see Ullr, so you'll know."

His gaze flicked to the glowing stone, jaw working and eyes flicking in uncertainty as if his scheme was in balance with Ullr's existence. He wanted to go, that seemed clear, but something made him hesitate.

"Loki, please," she entreated and put her sword away, holding out both hands now, empty. "Come away. Leave this place. There's nothing we can't fix yet, nothing broken beyond repair. Thor still loves you, your parents still-"

"They're not my parents," he interrupted sharply.

She wanted to object to that, but perhaps it was better for the moment to leave it alone. "If blood matters so much, then come see your son, who is of your blood," she told him. Frigga would be there, though Sif hoped she would be wise and let Loki see Ullr first, or he would think this was a trick.

Loki clenched his jaw, cheeks hollow, and for a moment, in the tightness of his face she saw the creases deepen around his eyes and his forehead, lines of stress and fatigue that hadn't been there before he'd fallen. As if centuries had passed for him, not one year.

But he wasn't arguing or objecting so she took it as agreement. "We'll go outside, and I'll call for Heimdall…"

Loki looked toward the main doors, as the sound of loud music and the deep thrum of some sort of engine interrupted. He seemed to expect the noise, glancing again at the stone of the scepter as if it held answers.

Then he shook his head once to clear it and lifted his face to hers, a grin on his face. "Who needs the Bifrost when I have a better way?"

"You have another way to get to Asgard?" she asked, incredulous. That was impossible, unless he had a ship with a star drive and surely Heimdall would have seen that a long time ago.

"I do. Take my hand and I can open the path."

He held out a hand toward her, but she hesitated, doubting the sudden recklessness in him. She'd seen him in this mood before, when he'd made up his mind to do something and he would let the consequences fall wherever they would, no matter how risky.

He laughed once. "Don't trust me?" he taunted. "You want me to see your helpless tiny baby, but you don't trust me to take us to Asgard my way?"

"If you hurt him, I will kill you," she stated it as a fact. While it was true, she regretted saying it as he drew back.

His hand fell back to his side, smile vanishing. "You think so little of me?" he returned, brows drawing together in hurt. "You believed I would murder the king, now you think I want to hurt your child? Perhaps it's best if I stay away then." He stepped back from her, expression closing into a mask, and he lifted the scepter again. "I have some new friends to meet and finish this farce."

"No, wait!" she exclaimed and ran at him. He leveled the scepter at her in warning, but she kept moving forward, until the point touched the fabric above her breastplate.

"You play with forces you don't understand," he warned in a murmur and didn't lower the scepter, but nor did he try to do anything with it. She could feel the point quivering against her. His hand must be trembling, which was something she had rarely seen. Loki usually had very steady, deft fingers.

"No, I don't," she admitted. "I don't understand what's happened to you. I don't understand why you should care about ruling Midgard, when you didn't before. But I don't believe you would hurt him. Please, take us to Asgard, Loki." She reached out slowly, her eyes holding his, and her hand laid over his on the haft of the scepter. His skin felt cold under her touch, but the faint tremor stopped. "Come meet your son."

His gaze flicked again to the doors, and the sudden smile at something he saw there, made her look as well, and she saw a man in a tight-fitting blue suit, carrying a round shield with a star on it.

"Surrender!" the human called. "The museum is surrounded!"

Loki laughed at him, this time in true amusement. "Oh, is it? In every dimension? Foolish mortal." He gestured with the scepter to the side, and the air twisted and parted like a cloth shredding, to reveal a blank dark space within. "My lady, shall we?"

"Stop!" the mortal shouted and she glanced at him, as he hurled the shield at them.

Sif might have knocked it aside, but Loki caught it, smirking at the mortal's surprise as Loki grabbed it in one hand. "Another time, Captain Rogers." Loki threw the shield back and stepped inside the tear in space. Sif followed, as the tear was gone as if it had never been.

And they were in Asgard.


	7. The Truth

Asgard.

Sif looked around, eyes rising to the towers and the sky above in amazement. They'd arrived in one of the palace gardens, in a sheltered place near the wall. "This is astonishing. How is this even possible?"

He shrugged. "Most believe it isn't. I decided it was and I found a way. So. Where is he? This child you claim exists."

She ignored his skepticism and answered, "In my suite."

He gestured with the scepter. "You go ahead. I'll follow under an unseen glamour."

She frowned. "Loki, you don't have to sneak in--"

"Not that I don't trust you, Sif, but.. I don't trust you. I don't want anyone to know I'm here," he insisted. "Go."

Uneasy but figuring there was no harm in it, she nodded. "Fine. You'll see." She headed for the side door, turning to look over her shoulder. He wasn't there. Her footsteps paused, as she wondered, what if he'd come here to do something else? He was sneaking away under cover--

"Sif," an irritated voice muttered at her shoulder, making her start. How could he be so close and she couldn't feel him? "If I wanted to do whatever horrible thing you're imagining, I could have done it already. You have the proof right before you."

"Your- your spell was not so good before," she explained haltingly, to thin air. "I used to be able to sense you were close."

"I am not as I was," he murmured. A chill slipped down her back with a foreboding. Not of danger, but of awareness that the quiet words were the barest hint of something that loomed large.

She faced forward and kept her steps confident, walking past Einherjar as if she had every right, which she did, and as if she was not bringing someone secretly disguised past them, which she was.

They passed through the main doors to the family wing and she climbed the grand staircase, broad and curving, with its enormous statue of Bor in the middle of the hall.

"They kept your rooms untouched," she murmured to him as they went past the level where both Thor and Loki had their suites. "Your mother never gave up hope that you were alive."

She expected him to deny Frigga was his mother, but he said nothing, and she wasn't even sure he was still there. But she didn't stop, as she reached her landing and turned down the wide deserted hall and headed toward her door. He appeared at her side, and he laughed at her flinch, and she rolled her eyes at him.

But the humor died away from them both as they approached her door. It slid aside for her, to welcome her home. She called out, "I'm back!"

The reception room was empty as expected, and she went through to the main room and its wide window that looked out to the water. This was deserted as well, except for the cradle now sitting in splendid isolation in the middle. There was a book - not one of Sif's - on the chaise, abandoned there in a rush. Frigga must have left it and absented herself to let Sif and Loki have this moment themselves.

But Loki saw nothing but the cradle. His eyes went to it the moment he stepped through the arch from the reception room, and he didn't look away as he walked slowly toward it. Sif paced him and glanced down to check that Ullr was in there, having a sudden fear that it might be empty. But he was sleeping on his back, little hands in fists, and he was wearing a long tunic and a diapercloth.

Loki stared at the baby, lips parted, an expression of such stunned bewilderment on his face that she smiled. "I didn't-- I thought you were lying to me," he whispered. "I was going to call your bluff, and see this was a trick. But it's not."

She confirmed, voice gentling in the face of his shock, "He's real. And he's your son."

"He's real." The haft of the scepter slipped through his fingers and clattered to the tile floor unheeded. As it left his hand, a shudder passed over his body and he blinked his eyes, inhaling a sharp breath as if he'd been underwater.

He reached out but his hand started to tremble before his fingers touched Ullr, and Loki pulled his hand back abruptly. He turned, shaking his head in denial, repeatedly, saying, "I can't. I can't." He stepped away from the cradle, her brief glimpse of his eyes as he turned looking wide and… afraid.

"Loki, what is it?" Sif asked. "I thought you'd be… happy?"

" _Happy_?" he repeated with shattered incredulity. "How - how can I be happy? I can't be his -- I can't be--" He spread his hands out in helplessness, expression fallen in anguish, unable to finish. "It's too late," he whispered. "I've been places, terrible places, done terrible things..." He swallowed hard and looked everywhere but at Sif or the cradle as he stepped backward, away from them both. "I'll leave and never come back. Tell them -- I disappeared. I attacked you both and we fought, or--" his chest heaved for breath, eyes increasingly wild with some violence within. "Tell them I died. Again. It's for the best."

She pursued him, confused and alarmed by the frantic words, as he hurried toward the door. "Loki, wait! What's wrong?"

She didn't realize Frigga was there, until her gentle voice said, "My son, please. You're safe here."

He halted as if run through with a blade and his eyes went liquid at the sound of her voice. She moved up behind him, the hem of her gown brushing the bare floor, and she smoothed a hand across the wild disarray of his hair at the back of his head with the exact same touch Sif recognized in how she stroked Ullr's head. Frigga said, "I've missed you so much, Loki."

"I--" he started but his voice cracked away to nothing. He turned and collapsed to his knees, clutching at her skirt, heaving sobbing breaths against her. It sounded so broken, Sif could barely look at him, her heart feeling tight in her chest. This was wrong, so awful, and told her that when he said he'd been terrible places, it was the truth.

Frigga didn't hesitate but kept caressing his hair and his back, as she knelt down with him to hold him, and made soothing sounds. "Hush, my darling. It's not too late, and we will make it all right again. Have hope and cast off this despair. Ullr is a sign that everything has changed. You are not as you were, but neither are we. All will be well, if we make it so."

He inhaled a deeper, shaky breath, calming down, and sniffling before he straightened. He lifted his head and wiped his eyes on the scarf he was still wearing around his neck.

Sif knew what to do and she was ready, Ullr held sleepily in her arms. She knelt beside Loki. "Here, hold him."

He shied back, holding his hands apart and to his sides in refusal. "No, no, I'll- I'll hurt him."

"No, you won't," she reassured him and held out Ullr, pushing him gently against Loki's chest until he reflexively lifted his hands so the baby wouldn't fall. He looked down, expression still teary-eyed and stunned as he looked at the fragile life in his hands. Ullr opened sleepy eyes to examine this new handler, and she heard Loki's breath stutter at the sight of Ullr's red eyes.

"You really are mine," he said, trying to sound like a jest, but his voice turned ragged. He shifted his grip to a more natural one, holding Ullr against his chest in one arm. He brushed Ullr's cheek, feeling how soft it was, and then the baby's tiny fist, and Ullr grabbed Loki's finger.

The smile on Loki's lips was slight, but genuine, the sight of it loosened something in Sif's chest with a soft warmth.

"You know that feeling you have right now?" Frigga asked softly. "That awe and love and delight at his little face? That is what I felt when you were first put in my arms. Because you're my son, Loki. You always have been, you always will be." She brushed his cheek, wiping the silent tears that Sif hadn't noticed until Frigga thumbed them away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, head bent over Ullr. "I didn't know what to do, and I ruined everything. I thought there was nothing left… Nowhere to go…"

Frigga consoled him, "You were blinded by your despair and your anger, but it was never true, Loki. You keep looking for what isn't yours, and you don't see what you have. You have so much, my son." She pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Hold him for now. Let that love knit all the broken edges back together and give you strength."

He knelt on the floor, motionless but for breath, holding Ullr, and nobody spoke until his tremulous voice confessed, "I never thought this was possible, not once I knew the truth. Who would let such a child be born? Or if it was born, wouldn't every mother drown it at birth or abandon it to the wolves as a foul creature unfit for Asgard?"

A soft sound came from Sif's throat at the horrible words. "No, Loki, never," Sif protested. "I never thought that. I feared I might have to leave with Ullr, if people were cruel to him. But aside from those who just don't see him, no one reviles him." Sif closed a hand around his arm and echoed Thor's words to her. "Asgard can be thoughtless, Loki, but not so cruel."

"Is that so?" He swallowed hard. "They all know about me."

"They do," she confirmed, and reminded him when his jaw tightened.  "You were dead. I didn't want to hide Ullr, or force him into the same difficult moment of revelation that you had. So I had to reveal your secret. I am sorry, if you would have wanted it kept."

He did, she could see the revulsion - not of Ullr, only himself - and fear of the response he might receive, but he managed a shrug. "It's done, and I suppose I'm glad you chose the truth."

The edge in his words hit its target as Frigga protested, "Loki, we thought your form shift was permanent. We wanted to spare you the fear that it might not be."

His gaze snapped up, striking like a spark to tinder. "Yet so obviously the blood would've shown itself," he lifted Ullr in pointed display.

After a moment, Frigga allowed, "Yes. Truly I kept trying to think of a way to tell you once you were grown, I knew it was something you should know, but I was afraid of what your reaction would be. It was easier to put it off another day, another month… The longer I said nothing, the harder it became. But it's true, you should have known long ago, and you should never have found out as you did. That was our mistake, your father's and mine."

His tone biting and hostile again, Loki snapped, "He's not my father."

"Loki!" Sif exclaimed, shocked.

But Frigga frowned at him, more curious than offended. "Loki, why are you looking at the scepter?"

He flicked his gaze away from it. "I'm not."

Frigga stood up. "I think I should take a closer look at it."

"It's mine!" he snarled and thrust out his free hand, as if throwing something. Sif threw herself in between, blocking it from striking the queen. Nothing struck her, not blade nor magic, as he held back at the last moment. But Frigga looked alarmed, and Sif was breathing hard and her heart was beating a furious rhythm of battle.

But Loki wasn't fighting. He was looking at his hand as if it had struck on its own, brow knitted with confusion. His face was pale and eyes showing white all around, as he held Ullr to her. "Take him," he ordered her urgently. "I told you I can't do this."

Sif took Ullr back from him, all but snatching her son from his arms, and Loki knelt on the floor, stricken and trembling by what he'd almost done.

"It's not you," Frigga murmured, drawing their attention. She was now standing above the scepter, looking down at it. "It's this."

Loki restrained himself from any possessive reaction this time, slumping forward and not looking at the queen. Sif didn't understand how it could be doing anything -- it was just a thing. "What do you mean?" Sif asked.

Frigga narrowed her eyes at the scepter, and Sif felt a soft breeze against her skin as the queen probed it with magic. "Its power leeches through the air, and it calls to you, does it not, Loki? You feel it. It is no ordinary power stone. Where did it come from?"

His head lifted sharply as if he heard something and his eyes darted as if there was something in the room, though there was nothing. "It… " he stopped and changed what he would say. "My allies gave it to me. To lead them."

Frigga went to one knee before it. "It has great power," she murmured, and held out a hand above it, not touching. She let out a soft gasp as her probe gave her the answer. "Loki, do you know what this is?"

He gave an uncaring shrug. "A weapon. A tool."

"No, this is so much more than that. Who were your allies?" she demanded.

"The Chitauri. A race of the rim with a weak hive mind. The scepter helped control them," Loki said, and frowned at the queen. "Why?"

"Because I know what this is, Loki, and I know who had it last. That you do not, makes me very uneasy. Because you should know."

"Why should I know? It's just a scepter and a power stone?" he said, raising his voice like a question, and there was nothing in his face that wasn't confusion. But his hands were tight fists against the floor, and his shoulders were hunched inward. Sif knew something was wrong. "I don't know his name. If he had one. He was the leader of the Chitauri."

"And?" Frigga persisted. "Who else?"

"There was… there was no one." But he rose and paced away between the pillars that framed the opening to the balcony. Looking outside to the sky, he stood still, except for his hands behind his back where his fingers rubbed together in restless agitation.

Sif watched him, rocking Ullr. Something in Loki knew what Frigga was trying to get him to remember; there was something lurking in his mind. But what could make Loki forget?

"What is it, All-Mother?" Sif asked. "What has you so concerned?"

"This stone," Frigga pointed to the glowing crystal at the end of the scepter, which she did not touch, even as she rose back to her feet and smoothed her skirt, "is one of the Infinity Gems. It is the Mind Gem and it belongs to Thanos the Eternal."

Loki whirled around, eyes flaring wide. "That is impossible!"

Sif was no less startled by that news, and she leaned away from the scepter as if that small distance would be of help. Infinity Gems and Thanos the Eternal were tales from an age past, and Sif had liked the tales when she'd been young, but the reality of them was dire.

"Look at it, examine it," Frigga invited with a nod of her chin to the scepter on the floor. "But don't touch it. You cast it aside, and I think you should not touch it again."

"But I would know," Loki objected. This time it was more hollow, as if he knew the truth and wanted to deny it. He asked in softer whisper, in a tone of creeping horror and dismay, "How could I not know?"

"Because Thanos wiped all knowledge of himself from your mind," Frigga said. The silence that fell after that was broken only by Ullr smacking his lips in his sleep. Sif felt cold -- how was it possible that anyone could have done that to Loki? She was so used to thinking of him as sliding free from everything, using his clever tongue and magic tricks to never get caught; but now she knew he not only had been caught, but someone had made him forget. She stood beside him, hoping that her and Ullr's presence might be some comfort.

He didn't seem to know she was there, as he stared out the window, so still she wasn't sure he was breathing. Only the quiver in his lower lip showed a hint of how he was feeling. 

Frigga joined them on his other side. "Loki, Thanos would not have sent the gem away from him lightly. What did he want? What were you supposed to do?"

He shook his head and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "The plan was to use the tesseract to open a portal to let in the Chitauri attack force to conquer Midgard for me."

"The tesseract," Frigga murmured. "This was so he could get the tesseract and have Midgard as a foothold. Probably to attack us as his greatest threat."

"So I was his tool," he said flatly, sounding angry, though his arms were now wrapped around his middle in deeper distress. "Conquer it for him, hold it for _him_ , and I didn't even know I was on his leash."

Frigga glanced at the scepter. "Unfortunately, I think you still are, darling. We need to remove it to the treasury behind wards. Its influence is still staining seidr."

He nodded once jerkily, agreeing, but Sif saw how his eyes returned to the scepter as if he couldn't help himself. She slid in between, blocking his view, so he could see only her and Ullr. His lips flickered in a smile though the self-protective hugging didn't relax, as if he felt terribly ill, and his eyes turned back to the window.

Frigga left them to call the Einherjar to bring her tools and a shielded case to put the scepter in.

While Frigga was in the outer room, Sif moved closer to Loki, so their arms were touching. "It's going to be all right," she told him, not surprised when he shook his head in denial then gave a sharp laugh.

"It's going to be worse, not better," he told her. "I didn't know, Sif. I still don't, not really. I know the name, but I have no memory of Thanos." Then he glanced at Ullr and dampened his lips with his tongue before asking. "How old is he?"

Understanding why he was asking, though she hoped she was wrong, she answered, "Four months." She swallowed and answered his true question, "It's been almost a year since you fell." 

He shut his eyes, brows drawing together in distress, "There are _months_ I don't recall. I thought… I genuinely believed there was not enough time that you could have borne a child. What happened that I don't remember?" he asked in a whisper. "What did I do?"

"Or what was done to you?" Sif murmured, thinking that more likely. He tensed, and she knew he feared that, too. Her free hand took his, and his fingers were cold. She brought them to her lips to kiss and warm against her cheek. "We'll figure it out, Loki. You're home now, and you have us."

He pulled his hand free and turned to her, lips flattened. "Why?" he asked abruptly. "While I can't ever deny that Ullr is our child, and I'm grateful that you came to me to tell me about him before it was too late, he doesn't mean we have to… to pretend to more. I know you've never had any particular feelings toward me, and he was conceived in a night of carelessness, not devotion."

But that, she knew, was only half true. "You have feelings for me," she said. She'd sensed them that night, when he'd thought she was asleep in his arms.

His jaw tightened and he swallowed, but he didn't deny it. Steadily, he answered, "If you don't share them, it doesn't matter."

"And if I do share them?" she asked.

"You don't," he said, sharp challenge coming to his tone. "You're just suggesting you do because you're afraid rejection will push me to madness."

"No, I don't think that. Or, maybe a little," she admitted, "I think there's a lot going on with your emotions right now, and it's true I don't want to make it worse. However," she emphasized when he was starting to look satisfied and yet disappointed that he'd read her correctly, "that's not why I'm saying this. It's not only for Ullr's sake either. But that night, Loki… that night it was as if I saw you for the first time. Yes, you'd been there all along, but somehow in that stupid barn, I opened my eyes and I saw you. That's why I kissed you. Then, when I was still trying to figure out what I was feeling, you were dead. I hadn't realized how strongly I felt until it was too late." Her voice went ragged and she had to inhale a deep breath to gather herself. "So, even though I'd never expected to have a child so early, I wanted Ullr, because he was a piece of you, and I didn't want to let go."

He listened to this with dawning hope lighting his eyes, and he turned to her, seizing her shoulders. "Sif? Are you saying--?"

She smiled at him. "I'll be clear, so you understand. I don't know exactly what I feel. I don't know if we can be more to each other than Ullr's parents. But I want to try. I want to see who we can be to each other, without Thor between us. Just you and me. And our son."

She waited, apprehensive about what he would say, how he would respond. She was half-expecting some cruel jest to push her away, but he said nothing. He only looked in her eyes as if he was afraid she would disappear on him, which was ridiculous, when he was the one who had vanished.

But then he moved, pulling her closer and lowering his mouth to hers. His arms went around her, careful of Ullr between them, and she pressed into him eagerly. The touch of his lips made her shiver inside, something coming to life again that had been dormant. And he kissed as if he thought he might never have the chance again. It was all the answer she needed.

When he withdrew, he laid his head against hers. "I should run far away from you and Ullr," he murmured, and when she started to object, he lifted his head to look into her eyes to tell her very seriously. "I'm bringing Thanos with me, Sif. His servant warned that failure would bring retribution. Staying near me isn't safe."

She felt cold at the warning, but more because she worried for Loki, than because she was afraid of this monster. "Then we face them together. It's not our way to run from our enemies, Loki."

He smiled a little wryly. "Not your way, maybe, but it's mine."

"Oh, don't give me that." She snorted. "You wouldn't run away from him; you'd run straight at him to keep him away from here."

He gave a little chuckle. "That's an excellent idea, I should try that."

She poked him hard in the chest. "Don't you dare. I mourned you once, don't make me do it again."

He embraced her again, and dropped a gentle kiss on Ullr's head and then her cheek. "Even if I think you're foolish joining your fate to mine, when mine is so tangled and dark, I can't push you away. I should, I know. I fear where this will end, but I still want to try."

"Good." She tilted her head against his shoulder, as his arm went around her back. It was very comfortable, and she wished she'd tried this before. "If Asgard can't defeat some upstart Eternal with delusions of universal conquest, what good are we?" she asked, grinning.

"I've been wondering that for a long time," he added dryly, and she nudged an elbow in his ribs, smirking when he couldn't retaliate because of the baby.

Ullr awoke anyway, but luckily instead of crying, he made his happy burbling sounds to discover he was in his mother's arms, rather than in his cradle. Loki angled his head in a position to watch Ullr, and when Ullr grabbed at the dangling end of his scarf, he twitched the scarf for Ullr to bat at. The sound of Ullr's giggle made Loki smile, eyes crinkling in genuine amusement. 

She said softly, "Welcome home."

He lifted his head to meet her gaze, but he only smiled, before returning his attention to Ullr and their little game. Playing with him was the happiest she had seen him look in a long time. It was a refuge from the old resentments that were still there, and the new fears, but he put it all aside to live in the moment with their son.

Whatever danger lurked on the horizon and whatever else needed to be done to help Loki return to his place, for this moment, she was content.


End file.
